


virtues in the verse

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Ghosts, Haunting, Innuendo, Necromancy, Past Character Death, Possession, Resurrection, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: Himiko had never been thrilled about the idea of meeting her soulmate, until it became impossible, or so she thought.





	virtues in the verse

Himiko liked to say that she’d never worried much about her timer. Thinking about meeting her soulmate, what they’d be like, whether they’d even get along...it was all too much work. Sometimes the thoughts came to her anyway, though, unbidden in the night until her heart was racing and palms were sweaty. She’d fall asleep staring at the numbers, reassuring herself that there was plenty of time. Maybe it would never even happen. Maybe she’d get hit by a bus and the countdown would stop forever before hitting zero. Maybe _her soulmate_ would get hit by a bus and she’d wake up to see the numbers grayed out and unmoving, tired of going on like the rest of her.

Ironic, then, that after years of anxiety, she didn’t even notice when it stopped.

* * *

Looking back after the fact, Himiko thought she might have been at a coffee shop when it happened. That would certainly explain the odd, almost startled look the barista gave her when she outstretched her hand to pay. She’d seen her wrist just as the timer came to a stop.

Himiko slumped down in her seat, sliding a thumb under her opposite sleeve to trace the numbers on the inside of her wrist. 22 hours, 4 minutes, 18 seconds. She hadn’t felt anything at all. She’d been _buying a coffee._

“...Don’t you think?” the girl next to her finished expectantly, grinning. Himiko nodded, giving her an distant look in return. She’d been talking for awhile, she thought, but Himiko hadn’t absorbed any of it.

“Yeah, totally.” 

“Of course, Tenko’s more excited to meet cute girls.” Himiko gave another dutiful nod, digging the edge of her thumbnail into her wrist and relishing the faint pain. Mind going foggy again, she pulled herself to awareness just as her classmate seemed to be realizing they hadn’t introduced themselves yet.

“Chabashira Tenko, aikido master. Tenko’s sure we’re going to be great friends!”

“Yumeno Himiko, magician. Nice to meet you,” she replied automatically, hardly even hearing herself.

Just as she finished speaking, the entrance ceremony began, and Himiko was saved from having to pretend to listen to Tenko. The headmaster’s droning about talent and potential, little more than background noise, actually lulled her to sleep. 

* * *

Himiko woke to the sounds of people preparing to leave the auditorium, and someone clearing their throat very close to her ear. She was leaning on something comfortable, and...oh. _Oh._ She jolted upright, face burning.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, fingers tugging anxiously at her hair. “You...could’ve just pushed me off, you know.”

“It’s alright,” the boy next to her replied, avoiding Himiko’s gaze just as much as she was avoiding his. “It happens, right? You must’ve really been exhausted.”

“Something like that,” Himiko agreed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Still, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“Really, don’t worry about it.” As kind as Tenko had seemed, from what little Himiko absorbed, her accidental pillow seemed much more her speed today. As soon as his gaze drifted towards her wrist, though, she bit her lip and looked away, getting up to follow Tenko out of the auditorium.

* * *

It didn’t take long to notice that one member of their class was missing, and from there, it didn’t take much for the reason to hit Himiko with sickening clarity. 

“It’s such a shame about Shinguji,” Angie said that evening. Himiko looked up, frowning thoughtfully. She’d hardly engaged with her new classmates all day, but this was enough to get her attention. “But Atua is welcoming him, even though he never had a chance to be Angie’s friend.”

“What are you talking about?” Himiko asked, voice quiet.

“Oh, right, you were sleeping when the headmaster mentioned it,” Tenko chimed in. “There was supposed to be a sixteenth person in our class, the, uh...”

“Ultimate anthropologist,” Angie supplied.

“Yeah, that. Shinguji Korekiyo. Nobody’s giving us any details, but apparently he died,” Tenko explained, voice dropping to a more normal level for the first time all day.

“When?” Himiko asked, gripping at her own leg to keep from going for her wrist again.

“Just yesterday. I wonder what happened.”

“Wow. Yeah, me too.” Himiko’s stomach churned. Both Angie and Tenko’s timers were zeroed out, she noticed. There were plenty like them, who’d been lucky enough to meet their soulmates early in life, and plenty more their age who still had time remaining. Himiko, on the other hand, was an outlier. Teenagers with frozen timers were just rare enough to get pitying stares in public. She wondered how long she could avoid wearing short sleeves.

* * *

The first week of classes passed in a blur. There were so many new things and people, and all of them were so exhausting. Himiko had to be grateful to Hope’s Peak for their lax attitude towards anything not directly related to talent, however. It meant she had no trouble sleeping in class, or simply not attending at all. Sleeping as much as possible also meant that she didn’t have to think about her dead soulmate, so what wasn’t to like?

She’d even made some friends. Tenko and Angie were nearly always by her side, and even though Himiko thought they could get a bit _too_ energetic sometimes, she appreciated not having to feel lonely. In a very welcome twist of fate, her other favorite classmate was the person she’d fallen asleep on at the entrance ceremony. Shuichi was rapidly becoming like the brother she’d never had. Given his talent as the Ultimate Detective, Himiko was sure he’d figured out her secret, but he hadn’t mentioned it once. She appreciated that too. Everyone was great really. If she sometimes tried to imagine one more person among them, well, nobody had to know.

Precisely eight days after her timer stopped, Himiko found a knife in her backpack. She’d never seen it before, but nobody had to know that either.

* * *

It was pretty; the sort of thing one might collect, Himiko thought, staring at the unfamiliar knife in her hand. Still plenty sharp from the looks of it though, enough to cause serious damage despite looking ornamental. How had something like that gotten into her bag? _She_ certainly hadn’t bought it, and what sort of person went around slipping weapons in with other people’s things?

Exhaling slowly, Himiko set the knife down on her desk, sunlight streaming in the window and making the rainbow blade gleam merrily. Before she could do anything else, however, the sound of her door opening jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Himiko! Are you ready to go?” Tenko was practically jumping up and down out of pure excitement, hair bouncing. Himiko had no idea what was so thrilling about going to dinner, but she’d learned to stop questioning it.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” she murmured absently, tugging on a sweater. Not quickly enough, however. An arm shot out from behind her, grabbing the handle of the mystery knife.

“Ooh, how pretty! Angie could use this for lots of sacrifices to Atua, yep yep!” Angie’s eyes gleamed with wonder as she twirled the knife around, entranced by the colors.

“Angie!” Himiko yelped, startled enough to break her usual monotone composure. “Put that down, jeez. It’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” Angie said, pouting a little, but she put it down, much to Himiko’s relief. “Where’d you get it anyway? Angie didn’t know Himiko liked knives.”

“Oh, you know...” She trailed off, biting her lip and trying to come up with a believable excuse. “It was a gift. My...cousin...collects them.” Himiko shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, and shoved the knife in a drawer, grabbing her keys. “C’mon, let’s go.”

* * *

If the appearing knife had been a simple one-time incident, it was possible Himiko could have brushed it off as herself simply not remembering. But it just kept happening. 

On Sunday, another knife, different yet just as flashy as the first. On Monday, a few new books on her desk, all relating to anthropology. A quick search confirmed that they hadn’t come from the school library, so Himiko stuck them in a drawer with the knives and tried to forget. Wednesday morning, fumbling through her makeup bag revealed a few new items as well. Black eyeliner and blood red lipstick, both from far more expensive brands than Himiko’s own drugstore products.

Late at night, hunched over her desk, Himiko could have sworn she felt a hand on her shoulder. When she whirled around though, there was nobody there. Unsettled, she looked around the room, a hand flitting up to rest at the back of her neck, where she felt the weight of someone’s gaze mere moments ago.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, not expecting an answer. Talking to an empty room? Had she really sunk to that level of paranoia? Shaking her head, Himiko returned to her homework, but the sense that she wasn’t alone remained.

* * *

“He was a murderer, and _that’s_ why everyone’s trying to keep things quiet and not telling us anything. They don’t want it damaging the school’s reputation.”

Himiko loitered in a corner, listening as Kokichi rambled on to some of her other classmates. Was he serious?

“Oh, come on, that’s got to be a lie.” Apparently Kaede was thinking the same thing.

“It’s not! I swear it’s not. Would I _ever_ lie to you?” Kokichi was pouting, voice wavering in a tell-tale indication of crocodile tears to come. Kaede sighed. Rantaro set about inspecting his nails instead. Shuichi just looked vaguely uncomfortable.

“He killed a girl in some weird ritual and left her in the woods. Her boyfriend figured it out and killed him in revenge. I read all about it,” Kokichi whined, poking Rantaro’s side. Never satisfied unless everyone’s eyes are on him, Himiko thought to herself. Aside from the amusement that came from watching Kokichi be himself, though, the content of what he was saying was starting to sink in. Himiko wasn’t a fan. Could her soulmate really have been a killer?

She swallowed hard, grabbing her bag. As she made her way out, Shuichi’s eyes met hers for a brief moment, and his eyes were even softer and more sympathetic than usual. He knew there was some basis to Kokichi’s claims, then. 

Himiko headed towards the dorms, but as she got closer to her room, a dark knot of foreboding settled in her stomach. Hesitating, she turned around and went in the opposite direction, finding an empty study room to curl up in instead. 

Settling in the comfiest chair she could find, Himiko got out her laptop, fingers tapping nervously against her thigh as it booted up. Inhaling slowly, she googled ‘Shinguji Korekiyo’ for the first time.

Information on his death was sparse, most articles vague on the circumstances. There wasn’t much to corroborate what Kokichi had said, but nothing to contradict it either. If it had been an accident or illness, wouldn’t it say so? Himiko bit her lip, continuing to scroll. The funeral had been over a week ago, of course. She’d missed that. ‘Preceded in death by his sister,’ she read, surprised. That seemed like awful luck. Had this sister’s death been equally mysterious?

The Shinguji family was apparently quite wealthy and well-known in elite circles, and as such, it was easier than Himiko expected to find people gossiping and theorizing online. Many were telling similar stories to what she’d heard in the classroom earlier, and many more casting suspicion on the family as a whole, suggesting that the web of crime stretched even further than it appeared to.

The elder Shinguji had been sick for years, Himiko learned, though some of the more paranoid commenters suggested that it had been something more sinister, and the family had wanted to get rid of both their children.

Korekiyo’s crime (though it had never officially been attributed to him, and there was no way of knowing whether it was his only one) was described in lurid detail. The ritual circles, the salt, the ropes...part-way through someone debating whether all of this had been done while the victim was still struggling, or if the slit throat had come first, Himiko closed out of the website. That was enough of that, she thought, sweat cooling along her spine.

Changing tactics, she decided to read up on things from when he was still alive instead. As horrified as she was from what she’d already learned, there was a part of Himiko that was morbidly interested in what kind of person he was before, whether she would have liked him if they’d gotten a chance to meet.

Before she knew it, another hour had passed, and the answer that she was starting to come to was no. Stories from others, coupled with official coverage of his anthropological achievements, and what little she’d found on social media, painted a picture of someone many saw as eccentric and cold, fond of his work and little else. Aloof, morbid. Himiko was developing a whole dictionary of Korekiyo, unsure whether any of it was true. 

She found herself purposely avoiding photos, scrolling past quickly whenever one came up. Something about knowing what he looked like would make it all too real.

“Himiko...?”

Himiko had been so engrossed in her research that Shuichi’s soft voice was enough to make her jump. Flinching, she slammed her laptop shut, hiding what she’d been looking at.

“Hey,” she mumbled, the voice in her head chanting ‘act natural, act natural.’ “What’s up?”

“You seemed upset earlier,” he said, fiddling with his hat. “About what Ouma was saying. I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh.” Himiko curled in on herself a little more, putting her laptop away. “Um, thanks. It’s fine. I’m just tired.”

Shuichi approached slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to, and took a seat next to her.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to, but...he was your soulmate, wasn’t he? Shinguji?”

“Yeah,” Himiko said, staring down at the faded carpet. “I guess it’d be pretty easy for you to figure that out, being a detective and all.”

Shuichi just smiled sadly, not bothering to deny it. 

“There were some signs,” he admitted. “From what I’ve heard...something like that probably is what happened, but...try not to feel too bad about it. There’s more to life and who you are than soulmates, and...what he might have been like doesn’t say anything about you.” For a moment, Shuichi looked a bit embarrassed about his own pep talk, but then he nodded, regaining some confidence. He didn’t make eye contact, of course, but neither did Himiko, so it worked. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

“...Thanks, Shuichi,” she said, meaning it. 

* * *

She should have expected that her slightly improved mood wouldn’t last long. Himiko had stalled for hours, watching movies with Shuichi in his room, but eventually, she had to go back to her own. She didn’t even know why she was so anxious about it, really. What did creepy stories about Korekiyo have to do with feeling safe in her own room?

The moment Himiko entered the bathroom, it became abundantly clear. She sagged back against the doorframe, eyes going wide. 

There was a message scrawled across her mirror, in the same unfamiliar red lipstick she’d found in her makeup bag. ‘ _You have no need to fear me,’_ it said. Even the handwriting, an elegant, spiky script, was completely foreign to Himiko. It didn’t belong to anyone she knew.

Whimpering softly despite herself, she closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath. Then another. But when she opened her eyes, the writing was still there.

“What the hell?” Was someone playing a prank on her? Ordinarily, Himiko’s first thought would be Kokichi, but there was no doubt that her door had been locked all day, her windows were closed, and the dorm room locks were virtually unpickable. There was no way someone could have gotten in.

The timing seemed far too coincidental as well. Saying something like ‘You have no need to fear me,’ when she’d been preoccupied with thoughts of Korekiyo all day? Feeling a sudden chill, Himiko took a small step into her bathroom, then another. Focusing on her breathing the whole time, she drew closer to the mirror, until she was able to reach out and touch the writing on it.

Sure enough, it seemed to be written in lipstick, and the tube laying on the counter suggested that too. Himiko rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, debating whether or not to go get one of her friends. She wasn’t completely sure she wasn’t imagining it, though. If she fetched someone with a story like this, and there turned out to be nothing there, she’d look crazy. Deciding against it, she started scrubbing the lipstick off the mirror instead.

“So much work,” she mumbled to herself a few minutes later. It felt like it was taking forever to get the mirror clean, and every movement felt heavier than usual, like the air itself was weighing her down. Himiko let her thoughts wander, occasionally frowning at her reflection as all the red was gradually wiped away.

When she finished up and turned to leave the bathroom, Himiko saw a second reflection out the corner of her eye. A glimpse of long, black hair, a stark difference from her own red bob. Too different to just be a trick of the light. And yet, when Himiko turned her head to look directly at the mirror, she was the only one standing there.

_I don’t like this_ , Himiko thought. _I don’t like this at all._ The items she’d never bought, the phantom touches, the creepy message...All of it piling up was just too much. 

“If there’s someone here, you’d better show yourself,” she said, trying to sound intimidating even though her voice was shaking. “This isn’t funny.”

Nobody came forward. Himiko looked around her room, even checking under the bed and inside the closet. Nothing. She was alone. 

“Yumeno...” 

Himiko screamed. Heart thudding in her chest, she stumbled back from where she’d been checking her closet again, losing her footing and toppling onto her bed. She’d never been the most graceful.

She’d _definitely_ heard a voice, though. It was faint, no louder than a whisper, but noticeable in an otherwise silent room. 

“Who are you?” Himiko demanded, hugging her knees to her chest. “Where are you?”

No answer came.

Himiko remained on high alert. She did her best to focus on getting some reading done, but every few paragraphs, her eyes would dart up from the page, scanning the room for any new threats. Almost without realizing it, she started to cry. Why was this happening to her? What had she done to deserve this? 

Eventually, though, she tired herself out despite her fear. Still fully dressed, covers a mess around and under her, Himiko started to doze off. By the time she felt fingers running through her hair, she was too close to sleep to find anything strange about it. 

* * *

When she started to stir the next morning, Himiko felt safer and more content than she could recall being in a long time. Someone was playing with her hair, and she could feel an arm around her waist, though the sensation was oddly muffled, like there were several layers between them. A soft smile tugged at her lips, and she pressed closer.

The more she woke up, though, the more the feeling started to fade. By the time Himiko stretched and opened her eyes, any semblance of physical contact was gone. She shivered, sitting up and wrapping her arms around herself. Her heart ached, as though she had lost something but didn’t know what. Just as Himiko was starting to get lost in her thoughts, though, the curtains fluttered, catching her eye.

That was odd. The window wasn’t open, so there shouldn’t be any breeze. And yet, as she watched, the curtains fluttered again. Set in motion by the same mysterious breeze, a piece of paper was knocked off her desk, falling slowly to the floor. 

Himiko frowned. The previous night’s events were still fresh in her mind, and this seemed a little too supernatural to be comfortable. Unwrapping her arms from around herself, she slipped out of bed, going over to scoop up the fallen paper. On it was the same handwriting from the mirror.

‘My apologies for last night,’ the note read. ‘I didn’t intend to frighten you, but unfortunately my means of communication are, shall we say, limited at the moment. Based on my observations, I hope this message will set you at ease. Introductions may be in order as well. I’m Shinguji Korekiyo. Your soulmate, I believe.’

Himiko had to read it a couple of times before it fully sank in. She gripped the note tightly, paper crinkling in her hand. Once again, it seemed impossible for someone else to have gotten inside, but the thought that she’d gotten messages from a ghost wasn’t any more realistic.

There were no more strange occurrences as she got ready for the day, but Himiko couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

She felt occasional touches against her shoulder, even when nobody was near her. The air around Himiko almost seemed to crackle, as if with static. Occasionally, odd chills washed over her, leaving her feeling dizzy. The day seemed to pass in a blur, but that wasn’t entirely unusual for her. Dozing off now and then was normal.

* * *

“Oh, Himiko, are you tired? I’ll get you some tea! Just leave it to Tenko!” Tenko leapt up from her seat, and Himiko groaned. How could anyone be so energetic all the time? Not to mention, Tenko had been a nice pillow.

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled, scooting over to lean on Angie instead, who beamed and held her close. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tenko insisted, heading up to the counter. The three of them had been lazing around in this coffee shop for...well, Himiko couldn’t remember how long. It was fun spending time with her friends, and she could always just skip class in the morning to sleep in. 

Despite Tenko’s protests, Himiko reached for her bag, fumbling inside for her wallet. She caught a slip of paper between her fingers and frowned, pulling it out to see what it was. A train ticket, with her name on it. The route was one she couldn’t recall taking, however, and when she saw the current date stamped on it, Himiko’s blood ran cold. She shoved the ticket back in her bag before Angie could see, completely forgetting about the money for her tea.

She hadn’t even left campus all day. Had she? The most notable thing she remembered was finally giving in to her curiosity and looking up pictures of Korekiyo. Sure enough, the odd little hallucinations made sense now. The long, dark hair, the piercing golden eyes. There was no doubt that he was who she’d been spotting in mirrors. As far as looks went, she’d pretty much won the soulmate lottery. He was gorgeous. Prettier than her, Himiko thought.

Angie was momentarily absorbed by something on her phone, so while she was waiting for her drink, Himiko guiltily pulled up one of the photos she’d found. A couple of years old, it was of the Shinguji siblings at some sort of fancy socialite event. They looked uncannily alike, almost like twins. The same tall, willowy frame, long hair, delicate features...even their (flawless) makeup seemed nearly identical.

A few minutes later, Tenko returned, setting a cup of tea in front of her, and reclaiming her seat. 

“Thanks,” Himiko murmured absently, taking a sip. She felt safe, sandwiched between two of her best friends like this, and yet she still couldn’t shake the pure fear that gripped her when she thought about what had really been happening rather than dwelling on frivolous things like old pictures. Was the ticket Korekiyo’s doing too? Was Korekiyo’s ghost even real, or was she going crazy? Playing with a loose thread on her sleeve, Himiko stared down into her tea, speaking up again before she could change her mind.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Not really.” Tenko was the first to reply, brow furrowed as though she was giving the question an uncharacteristic amount of thought. “Thinking about that kinda stuff freaks Tenko out, but if you do, I’m sure you have a good reason for it! You’re amazing, Himiko. You always have great ideas.”

Himiko felt her face heat up, and she looked away, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Thankfully, she was spared from thinking of what to say by Angie cutting in.

“Of course, of course. There’s all kinds of spirits roaming the world, doing mysterious things and trying to finish business from their lives. Atua knows them too, and welcomes them back to rest in peace, but some don’t want to go. Some can even be resurrected, if Atua wishes it. Yep, yep, ghosts sure are fascinating.” Angie gave her a dazzling smile, practically bouncing up and down in her chair. 

“Do you...know how to do that?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop it, and the air suddenly felt much thicker.

“Hmm, well, Angie’s never done it before, but Atua knows everything. He could give someone a new body, no problem.” Angie leaned closer, smile curling into something more sinister. “Are you planning something, Himiko?”

“No, not at all. That sounds like a lot of work. I was just curious.”

Angie hummed and stole a sip of her tea, patting Himiko’s thigh like one might reassure a dog. 

“Sure, sure. Of course. Atua’s very pleased that you’re interested in learning more about him.” Himiko nodded, forcing her face into an expression that was half-smile, half-grimace. She was left feeling much like she hadn’t gotten away with anything.

* * *

Bolstered by the thought that Angie could probably perform some sort of exorcism, if it came down to it, Himiko re-entered her dorm room that night with a newfound feeling of confidence.

A quick inspection proved that her new possessions seemed to have multiplied since that morning. There were more of the things she’d become accustomed to: knives, makeup, books (mainly academic sorts, but some looked downright occult), but that wasn’t all. It was starting to look like she had a roommate. Her closet looked fuller than before. On the wall above her desk, mixed in with some of her own photos, were new pictures of beautiful scenery. A journal sat out on the desk itself, and Himiko flipped through it, seeing pages and pages of anthropology notes, in the same elegant handwriting from the mirror. There were even a few hair ties on the bathroom counter, despite Himiko’s hair being too short to do much with. She never bothered keeping any around.

She inhaled slowly, mindlessly snapping one of the hair ties against her wrist and letting the sensation ground her.

“Did you do this?” Himiko asked the empty room, gaze flitting from wall to wall in the absence of someone to look at. “All this stuff showing up, and the train ticket...was that you?”

A few seconds passed, and everything stayed completely still. Maybe she really was just talking to herself. Just as Himiko thought that, ice cold fingers closed around her wrist. She screamed. If it wasn’t for the blind terror in that moment, the deja vu would almost be funny.

Frantically, she tried to shove her invisible potential attacker away, but of course, there was nothing to shove. Despite the undeniable sensation of a hand on her wrist, she met nothing but empty air. Himiko bit her lip to stifle a whimper, and felt a gentle tug at her wrist, like the hand wanted to lead her somewhere. Now that she was focusing on it more clearly, it was easy to tell that it felt fainter, less solid than one might expect. More the suggestion of touch than anything forceful.

“Shinguji?” There was another, more insistent tug, this time coupled with a little nudge to the small of her back. Himiko walked over to her desk, and it was then that she noticed her laptop had been turned on, and a blank document opened.

‘I am not yet an expert at channeling my energy effectively, nor am I even aware of the limits of my own powers. So, regrettably, it seems I am not able to speak at the moment. This should work for now, yes?’

As the words appeared onscreen, the ghostly touches vanished, but it was plenty clear that she was, in fact, dealing with her soulmate.

“Um, yeah, that’s fine,” Himiko said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot and going back to snapping the hair tie against her wrist. In a way, this was her first real conversation with her soulmate.

‘Excellent. Now, to answer your question, yes. It’s only natural for one to want to feel at home, is it not? Besides, it was one of the only ways I could try to make you aware of my presence. It seems that items connected to the deceased serve to make spirits more powerful. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to speak to you last night if you hadn’t been familiarizing yourself with my possessions.’

“So...all this really is your stuff, and having it here is...making you more powerful?” 

‘Indeed. I’m starting to feel much more like myself. Of course, I likely could have stayed near my home or grave and achieved the same effect, but how could I possibly abandon the opportunity to get to know you? Who’s to say it wasn’t a chance at true, enduring love that kept me here in the first place?’

Himiko wasn’t sure what to make of all that. The situation was still hard enough to get used to on its own, and it didn’t help that Korekiyo talked as if he was giving a lecture.

“Are you saying the whole reason you’re here is _for me_?” That was certainly what it sounded like, but Himiko couldn’t imagine that haunting a stranger would be at the top of a ghost’s ‘unfinished business’ list.

‘Are you the reason I’m still tethered to the mortal realm? Who can say? But are you the reason I’m here in particular, at Hope’s Peak? Yes, of course. I’m sure this whole thing must be terribly unnerving, so I don’t mean to presume anything, but...it is my hope that I can offer you some form of companionship, as I didn’t get the chance to do so in life.’

Himiko hesitated, and the typing quickly started up again, almost as if Korekiyo was embarrassed.

‘I was never the best in social situations, I’ll admit. You could say that...making friends was an ambition of mine, but meeting my soulmate was one of the things I longed for most.’

“And you don’t want to hurt me or anything?” Himiko confirmed.

‘Of course not. Perhaps, at one time, it might have crossed my mind, but not now.’

Not the most reassuring response. Once again, Himiko recalled all the sensationalist articles about what a horrible person Korekiyo was.

“Is it true?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself. “That you killed that girl?” 

The cursor blinked, and the air in the room grew cold, goosebumps appearing along Himiko’s skin. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘Yes. You’re just like the others, I see, unwilling to truly see the bigger picture beyond your own morals. There is more to it than you think, but I suspect an explanation would be lost on you.’

“I...I was just...” She fumbled for the right words, but it was pointless. The chill slowly dissipated, but no more words appeared, no matter how long she waited. Apparently she was being given the cold shoulder by a ghost, words she never thought she’d have reason to think.

* * *

Korekiyo seemed to get over his anger quickly, however. When she got up the next morning, a new message appeared, reading ‘Good morning, my darling.’

“Um, good morning,” Himiko said hesitantly, deciding not to acknowledge the term of endearment. Was it really any stranger than the rest of the situation? 

The next reminder of her soulmate’s presence came just a short time later. Himiko was hesitating in front of the mirror, sifting through her makeup in an attempt to decide on what colors to choose. Without her hands being anywhere near it, a tube of lipstick slowly rolled along the counter, coming to a stop when it bumped into her wrist. Raising an eyebrow, Himiko picked it up. 

“What, you want to help me decide? This is so weird.” A breathy laugh came in response, and she was powerless to stop the smile that spread across her face.

* * *

That moment proved to be just enough to break the tension. Korekiyo started chiming in more and more over the next several days, in whatever ways he could. Himiko was getting used to written or typed messages appearing on whatever was handy, objects moving of their own accord, and even, rarely, a quiet voice, barely louder than a whisper and audible to no one but her. They hadn’t exactly discussed whether this was simply an unconventional friendship or something more, but she couldn’t deny the reality of their soulmate bond, or her ever-increasing fondness for him.

More items showed up in her room here and there too, but not to the same dramatic extent as when it first started. Himiko wasn’t concerned. In fact, it made her dorm seem more like home. She liked getting new insights on his personality and interests through what she found laying around.

Sometimes it was difficult to remember what she’d done for the past couple of hours, but surely that wasn’t a big deal. She’d always been a little scatterbrained. Whenever she expressed concern about it, Korekiyo was quick to reassure her. He was watching over her, and he’d make sure nothing bad happened to her. 

Everything was just fine.

* * *

Two months after her first supernatural encounter, Himiko woke up in a cemetery. There was a slight, gloomy drizzle of rain, running down the gravestones and dripping from her hair. Judging by how damp her clothes were, she’d been there for awhile, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how she’d gotten there. She didn’t exactly frequent cemeteries to begin with, but she was sure she’d never been in this particular one before. 

She sat up slowly, frowning at the grass stains on her pants. There was dirt under her nails too, and one of the flower bouquets on the grave in front of her looked oddly mangled. Her gaze moved up to read the stone and, with a twinge of something approaching panic, landed on Korekiyo’s name.

A brief glance to the side revealed the grave to her left to be Shinguji Miyadera’s. The sister that had been mentioned online? Probably. She couldn’t recall her name. Himiko got to her feet, trembling. She was chilly, wet, and had no idea where she was relative to school. It was lucky that the weather was warm, or she’d be in even more trouble. The cemetery was completely abandoned except for her. Not even a groundskeeper was in sight. Not surprising, given the rain.

“Korekiyo?” she whispered. As she was waiting for a response, there was a tap on her shoulder from behind that felt quite a bit more solid than any touch from her soulmate usually was. Himiko flinched, whirling around to face whoever it was. She’d been sure that there was no one else around...

When she turned, she was confronted with a sight she’d only ever seen in photos, or in the mirror out of the corner of her eye, just barely.

“I sincerely apologize for frightening you, Himiko. It seems this endeavor was poorly planned.” He still wasn’t quite the same as a living person, like a strong breeze might dissolve him, but that was a far cry from not having a visible presence at all. He looked a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, glancing off to the side and adjusting his mask.

“H-how did I get here?” she asked, voice shaking. “And...and how long have I been here? I don’t remember.” 

“Don’t worry. I would never allow any harm to befall you. You know this, yes?” His voice was as gentle as ever, and when he rested a hand against her cheek, tucking a few strands of wet hair behind her ear, she felt it.

“Yeah, but...” Himiko frowned. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“I’m sure you recall my explanation on how I’m far stronger near my grave or former home,” Korekiyo said, not giving any indication that he was going to answer the part about how she’d gotten here. “Hence why I’m able to stand before you and engage in a proper conversation like this.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” she replied, stepping a little closer. “Feeling like you’re really here.” Himiko reached out and caught hold of his hand, marveling at how she was able to do so. He still felt unnaturally cold, but he was _there_. “I still want to know how I got here though. Why do you keep avoiding the question? Please, just tell me.”

“Forgive me for my presumptuousness, Himiko.” Korekiyo’s thumb stroked gently over the back of her hand. His eyes looked apologetic, but there was a gleam of something else there too. Something Himiko could only label as manic, contrasting sharply with his tranquil demeanor. “I truly should have explained before now, but it’s just so hard to restrain myself sometimes. The desire to _feel_ something again, and the overwhelming satisfaction when it’s fulfilled...” He trailed off, beginning to tremble just much as Himiko herself. Still not quite sure where this was going, she let him continue.

“You have no idea how lovely you are, Himiko. How beautiful. To view the world through your eyes is nothing short of bliss. A-ah, you’re so weak, so fragile...Your spirit could be crushed so easily, and yet you welcome me. It’s a connection the likes of which others could only _dream_ of. They might have things easier, yes, but they will never know the intimacy of truly becoming one. I miss my own body, certainly. Every fiber of my being yearns to be able to lavish you with all the affection you deserve. Properly, not with this mockery of touch. But yours is a most welcome substitute. Existing within your body is so...” Korekiyo shivered slightly, and the sensation of his hand in hers wavered. Evidently his near-hysterical rambling interfered with his ability to remain somewhat corporeal. “It can only compare with how I imagine it would be to f—”

“...Are you saying you’ve been possessing me? Like actual horror movie possession?” Himiko interrupted bluntly. If she let him continue with that train of thought, it was anyone’s guess when he’d stop talking.

“That...that is indeed the term people generally use, yes,” he said meekly, fussing with his mask again. 

“And that’s why I’ve been having problems remembering things? That’s been happening for months!”

“Yes...Once again, Himiko, I regret not making you aware, but truthfully, I feared your reaction. If your objection is with the sensation of lost time, that can easily be remedied. Now that you know, co-consciousness should be relatively simple to achieve, not to mention more pleasant for both of us. And it does not need to be a long-standing routine. That is the other reason we’re here. You see, I have quite a bit of knowledge in the realm of necromancy, and while most would dismiss rituals of the sort as nothing more than folklore, that is mere ignorance. I’ve found something that should work.”

Frowning, Himiko’s brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Even compared to Korekiyo’s usual behavior, this was unbelievable. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Together, we can resurrect me. Yes, I believe it to be true. We can reclaim all the years we should have had from the start. We can have the future we deserve as soulmates, and I will no longer be so reliant on you.”

“That’s amazing,” she breathed. In the wake of that news, everything else seemed inconsequential. She hadn’t even allowed herself to hope for a ‘proper’ relationship, and now Korekiyo was saying it was possible after all? Himiko closed the distance between them in an instant, wrapping her arms around him and reaching one hand up to tug his mask down, pulling him into a kiss.

It was a little awkward, and ended abruptly when Korekiyo once again became intangible, but Himiko couldn’t stop smiling.

“You’ll do it, then?” he asked. In the few moments before he pulled his mask back up, she got a glimpse of smudged lipstick, and almost expected to feel some lingering on her own lips. 

“Of course I will.”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Now, I think we ought to get you out of the rain, hm?”

Himiko nodded in agreement, starting towards the wrought iron entrance gates once she spotted them. Korekiyo stayed alongside her, but seemed oddly hesitant, like there was something he wanted to say.

“Is something wrong?” Himiko asked, pausing to look over at him. It was subtle, but he was already starting to become more transparent as they put more and more distance between themselves and his grave.

“No, no. Nothing you need to trouble yourself with. However, I’m unsure how long I’ll be able to maintain a visible form, or even speak to you, once we leave. It will be...back to how it usually is,” he said with a sigh. “It would be much easier if...Ah, on the off chance you’d be willing...” Korekiyo was uncharacteristically hesitant, and that fact along with the bits and pieces he did say was enough to make it clear what he was asking.

Slowly, Himiko nodded. “Okay.”

Only a few seconds passed before Korekiyo faded out of view. Himiko just stood there, not exactly sure what to expect, and an unnatural warmth bloomed in her chest. Despite the lack of any touch at all, she suddenly felt more _aware_ of him than she ever had before. Just as she thought that, quiet laughter echoed through her mind.

“Can you hear what I’m thinking?!” Himiko’s face burned hot with embarrassment, the effort to repress any potentially embarrassing thoughts only making more and more cross her mind. 

“Yes, I can. There’s no need for you to speak out loud at the moment, my dear. We can converse privately.” Sure enough, the response came only mentally. “And if you don’t mind me saying so, your little fantasy about how our first date would go is incredibly charming. Now, if you’ll simply relax and allow me to take care of returning us to Hope’s Peak. You’re absolutely freezing.”

* * *

The next few weeks devolved into a blur of research and resource-gathering. As it turned out, necromancy required quite a lot of materials. Flowers from his grave, all manner of different herbs, crushed bones, and countless other things. She’d even had to bribe the Ultimate Nurse two years above her to give her a bag of blood.

Their hurry to get things done as soon as possible also meant that Himiko was getting quite a bit less sleep than she was used to. Her friends had started commenting on how tired she looked, worried that she was sick. Somehow, she managed to keep dodging their questions. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep such a big secret from everyone, really. She just knew how impossible the whole thing sounded. After all, nobody even knew about Korekiyo being a ghost at all, and accepting the possibility that a resurrection would actually work was even more far-fetched. Soon enough, they’d be able to meet him face to face, and then they’d have no choice but to believe.

The excitement and exhaustion also made it more difficult to remember to be discreet. Several times, Himiko had caught herself speaking to Korekiyo out loud in public, earning more than a few odd looks. Everyone at Hope’s Peak probably thought she was losing her mind.

The obvious solution was to communicate telepathically more often. Korekiyo was slowly growing stronger, sometimes able to make himself seen and heard within the confines of their room, but he’d taken to possessing her often when out and about. Himiko thought she’d kind of miss it once it was no longer necessary.

* * *

A full moon was necessary for the ritual to succeed. Himiko practiced for days leading up to it, doodling magic circles in the margins of her notebooks and mumbling Latin incantations under her breath. Korekiyo hadn’t volunteered any information on what would happen if she made a mistake, but she doubted it would be anything good.

At 12:45 AM precisely, she finished packing up all the materials she needed, slinging her backpack over a shoulder. Around 1:00 was the most powerful time for any necromantic rites, according to the texts that Korekiyo was familiar with. They needed every advantage they could get. She left her dorm and started walking towards the deserted, forested area adjacent to campus. The farther away she got from the warm, reassuring lights around the dorms, the faster her heart started beating. An owl hooted, and Himiko flinched, gasping softly. Everything seemed so much more creepy than usual.

“Everything will be alright, Himiko,” Kiyo murmured. She felt the vague suggestion of arms around her, and a hand running through her hair. “I have faith in your abilities. This may not be the branch of magic you’re the most knowledgeable in, but you’ve perfected everything you needed. Have confidence in yourself. In just a few hours, you’ll be able to say you’ve done the impossible.”

“Do you even know exactly how this is going to work?” The reassurances of her soulmate helped a little, but Himiko was still more anxious than she’d like to be, hands trembling as she reached a suitable clearing and started unpacking everything she’d need. “Like, are you just going to...spawn here, or is your actual original body going to be reanimated, or...? What if I mess up and you’re a zombie or something?”

“I’m fairly certain that won’t happen. The ritual will either work, or it will not. There’s no danger of a zombie apocalypse beginning. As for where I will arise...I’m unsure.” Korekiyo hovered a few feet away, silhouette barely visible in the light of the moon.

“If you wake up in your original body, isn’t that going to be a problem? You’ll just die all over again from being buried alive.” Himiko tugged nervously at a lock of hair, chewing at her lower lip.

“Experiencing death for a second time so soon would be unpleasant,” he conceded, nodding. “However, if that were to occur, I would simply return to you in my current form and we would try again next month. No matter what happens, things will work out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Now, I do not know how long I’ll be able to keep you company, but I suspect it will not be for the entire duration. There will likely be a transition period in which I am no longer able to give any indication of my presence as a spirit, nor will I be alive. When this occurs, just keep going as we practiced. Do not doubt yourself, Himiko. If you are ready, we ought to begin. The proper time is upon us.”

“Okay. You’re right.” Himiko began drawing the magic circle, glancing down at the reference picture she’d brought every so often to make sure she was on the right track. Korekiyo stayed mostly quiet so as not to distract her, only offering occasional guidance. Afterwards, the candles and incense were lit and the other offerings were arranged in the circle. The preparations were complete. Himiko shivered in the late night breeze, wrapping the sweater she’d taken from Korekiyo’s side of the closet tighter around herself and hoping that the candles wouldn’t be blown out.

“Hey, Kiyo?” Kneeling on the ground, Himiko flipped to the correct page in the grimoire. “I love you.” She’d never said it out loud before, but it felt like the right time.

“And I, you, my dear.”

Himiko took a deep breath and began to read. The flames flared. Gradually, she began to feel incredibly tired, shifting the thick book from hand to hand and slowing slightly in reading the incantations aloud. Shortly after she noticed, Korekiyo disappeared entirely, just as he’d predicted. Himiko’s heart lurched, and her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but she continued reading. She just had to trust that she hadn’t lost him, one way or another.

By the time she completed the ritual, she could barely keep her eyes open. He’d warned her that it was a very draining process to attempt, but she hadn’t really expected it to be so extreme. Closing the grimoire, Himiko looked around. Nothing had changed in or around the circle. The forest was silent, and she was alone. 

As she sat there, gradually regaining her energy, minutes passed, and then became an hour. Still, there were no indications that any successful magic had been performed. 

All of a sudden, Himiko gasped. She’d heard the crunching of leaves underfoot, she was sure of it. She got to her feet, just about to investigate when the culprit appeared. It was only a cat, eyes glowing in the dark. Himiko groaned in frustration, slumping back down to the ground.

“Hey, kitty,” she whispered. “You look very nice, but I’m really waiting for someone el—Ah!”

Her wrist was enveloped in searing pain. Reflexively, Himiko grabbed at it, tears stinging her eyes. Over the next few moments, it only intensified, before abruptly vanishing all together. Still holding her wrist with her other hand, she glanced down. She hadn’t done anything, so there shouldn’t be any visible damage. Just her usual pale, bony wrist, grayed out timer, stained with dust and blood from the ritual.

The gray ink had deepened into a solid black. Where for the past several months had been the constant number 22:04:18, there was only a single zero.

Across town, a young man brushed dirt from his clothes, stretching his aching limbs. He had a bus to Hope’s Peak to catch.

**Author's Note:**

> In the universe of this fic, Korekiyo did in fact kill girls for his sister, with a few key differences. Their relationship was strictly platonic, he committed only two murders, and rather than giving his sister friends, he killed girls who were unkind to her in life. There was going to be a scene discussing this, as well as more focus/info on his past throughout, but it didn't wind up fitting in the completed piece.
> 
> I also debated whether to explicitly reveal his cause of death, but went with the choice not to because it ultimately doesn't affect the course of the story. Maybe he doesn't even remember how he died! Feel free to use your imagination.
> 
> This fic was originally intended for DR Rarepair Week all the way back in July...clearly that didn't work out.


End file.
